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Chapter 560: Michael’s Farewell

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Twain stood on his doorstep after being away for ten days. It was drizzling, but he did not open an umbrella, not because he pretended to look cool, but because he did not have an umbrella — Who would take an umbrella along when one went to Brazil?

He had spent ten days in Brazil and only just returned.

Ten days flew by. Good times always felt short. He and Shania had a pleasant holiday in Brazil, during which they met Shania’s parents again. Shania’s mother was happy and satisfied with her daughter’s current achievements. Even though she still treated her as a child, she was no longer as strict with discipline as she was before. Shania’s father was still mostly quiet but would chat with Twain in private to thank him for taking care of Shania and asked him to continue to do so — As her parents, they knew that Shania had moved out of her aunt’s house in Newcastle and into Twain’s place.

However, they did not raise any objections.

When Twain went to meet them, he felt a little uneasy, for fear that they would suspect that he had behaved inappropriately towards their daughter. From the looks of it, he did not know if Brazilians were open-minded about life, or whether they were very reassured by Twain...

Later when the two of them sunbathed by the sea, Twain jokingly asked Shania, “do I look so harmless to everyone?”

Shania smiled innocently. “Because my dad and mom know that Uncle Tony is a good man.”

Twain felt frustrated. But soon he was relieved.

Brazil’s scenery was beautiful, and its people were even more beautiful. His eyes were busy wandering around. The beach was full of Brazilian beauties in bikinis. He believed Shania’s parents were so reassured that it had to have been because Brazilians were open-minded in nature.

Other than hanging out with Shania in Brazil for the last ten days, Twain also took the time to get to know the talented players in Brazilian football, and he found a genius — Pato. Unfortunately, when he tried to get in touch with Pato’s agent, the other party had told him that Pato had been booked by several big European powerhouse clubs. Although Nottingham Forest had just won the UEFA Champions League, it was not easy for them to be involved.

Furthermore, the agent also told Twain that among the several big clubs, AC Milan’s pursuit of Pato was the strongest, and Pato himself also wanted to play in Milan.

Twain could only helplessly watch his Champions League final opponent regained one goal in the transfer market.

Twain took care of this matter regarding Pato behind Shania’s back. He previously promised Shania that he absolutely would not look for players when they came to Brazil. However, he was not able to hold back when he got here, so he had to hide it from Shania and took action in secret.

Since no results had been achieved, Twain stopped thinking about this and just spend time with Shania in peace.

※※※

Ten days had passed in a blink of an eye. Shania stayed in Brazil to spend time with her parents, while Twain returned to England to prepare various plans for the new season.

The house next door was shut tight. Dunn was not in England either, as he was visiting his parents in China.

Twain found that Dunn’s love for that home came from his heart. If it were not for his particular job, he would go home every day in a heartbeat. How could Dunn be back early when it was not easy for him to have a vacation once a year?

The players also relaxed and went on holidays in various well-known holiday locations. Twain was the only one who came back early on his own. As a manager, he had to take on as many responsibilities as the praise and glory he had received in front of people. He could not rest when the others could.

Once he put the luggage back in the house, Twain took out an umbrella. He was going to head to Burns’ pub to pick up the kitten which was placed in care there.

He did not like the small animal, but Shania loved it to death, so he could only do as she wished.

※※※

Burns was chatting with the customers in the pub. He had just opened for business, and there were not many people.

The glass door was pushed open and Twain stood at the door to close the umbrella.

“Hi, Tony, how’s Brazil?” Burns saw him and lifted his hand to greet him. His voice also made the other customers in the pub looked over at the entrance.

“The weather was much better than here.” Twain shook off the beads of water on his umbrella.

“Who asked you about the weather? I mean, did the beautiful women there dazzle your eyes?” As soon as Burns spoke, the group of people in the pub to laugh.

Twain smiled, too. “You’ve got kids and you’re still thinking about the gorgeous babes, Kenny?”

“I’m concerned for your love life.” Not to be outdone, Burns said, “You’re almost forty. Don’t keep turning to hookers to take care of your physical needs.”

The two men’s bickering filled the pub with joyous laughter.

Twain went straight to the bar and waved to Burns. “It will come naturally when it’s time. Give me a whiskey on the rocks.”

When Burns went to pour the liquor, Twain turned around to the drunks who had just laughed at him and retorted, “I think you all have lots of free time on your hands.”

One of the drunks stood up with a grin. “You’re right, Tony. The league tournament has not started yet and we are feeling really antsy. Other than drinking, I can’t think of anything else to interest me.”

Twain nodded, as he quite agreed with this remark. He had been a fan before and knew how hard it was every summer, when the European League was over and there was no World Cup.

“But you can watch Copa América...or AFC Asian Cup?”

Everyone cracked up, “Stop kidding, Tony! The last season was so damn wonderful, and now I’m not interested in any other game other than to wait for the Forest team to start its new season!”

“Ah, how does it feel like to be the champion?” Twain asked happily.

“It feels so damn great!” Someone mimicked Twain’s emphasized words in an interview after the game.

Burns smiled at the back and watched them mess around. He put the glass in Twain’s hand, along with an envelope.

“Michael sent this to you,” He said.

When he heard him, Twain stopped messing with the drunks, and turned around to open the envelope.

It was a short letter.

In the letter, Michael Bernard thanked Twain for realizing his dream of twenty-seven years, leaving him without any regrets.

“I was thankful that I had decided to go to Greece to watch the game and I put it into action, even if I had gotten into trouble with my wife for it. Because I saw the game and the scene I most wanted to see, my son and my beloved team became the European champion. Was there anything more perfect than this?

My twenty-seven years of unfulfilled wishes have been fulfilled, and I have nothing more to ask for… I’m no longer that easily excitable and hot-blooded young man. Tony, I know you still have a long way to go, and no manager will quit after only four years. But this is the end of my story, which is perfect. The beginning and the end were perfect, and of course, with some twists and turns in the middle… But what story is not winding?

I love my wife very much. Perhaps you do not believe me when I say this because I have made her sad again and again, but I speak from the heart. After the loss of my son and fulfillment of my last wish in football, Fiona is now my only concern. The next goal of my life is to give her a good life and make her happy.

Forgive me for not being able to drink and watch the games with you guys again. I hope you understand, Tony.

There are some things in life that are more important than football.

Finally, I wish you and the Forest team good luck, and I will continue to watch out for you guys. John and Bill are crazier hardcore fans than I am. Don’t let them down.

Your dearest friend, Michael Bernard

June 1, 2007.”

Twain folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. He took a sip of his drink, and then asked, “did you read the letter, Kenny?”

Burns shook his head. “It’s addressed to you, Tony.”

“Yes...”

“But I can roughly guess what’s written on it.”

“Well?”

“After the final, Michael did not go straight back to the United States. He followed John, Bill and the others back to Nottingham and watched the live broadcast of the celebration here at my place. He left the next day. We talked about a lot of things… I’ve known him longer than you and I’ve known you for a long time, Tony.”

Twain nodded.

“He must have said to you that there are more important things in life than football, right?”

“Yes, he did.”

“That was what he said to me.”

Twain did not say anything, and Burns did not go on.

Twain downed his drink and took the cat from Burns’ hands. He held it under his arm as if it were a book. He waved to the regulars and reopened his umbrella to walk out into the rain.

He understood Michael even if he did not write the letter.

Truthfully, after he read the letter, he thought, if Gavin had not passed away, Michael would not say “there are some things more important in life than football.” Because he would not know what was more important. To Michael, his son was more important than football, and so was his wife.

People always had to wait until they lost something to understand that it was the most important.

Twain hoped that Michael would not understand “what was more important than football” for the rest of his life, because that meant he did not lose the most important thing. If Gavin had not died, he would not be forced to go to the faraway United States, let alone talked silly things like give up football...

But… Twain moved his umbrella away and let the rain fall on his face.

I can travel through time and space, but I cannot change time itself. The past can only be the past.

Concentrating on these questions, Twain did not realize that he had used too much strength to hold the cat under his arm. The cat under his arm screeched in pain.

This sound interrupted Twain’s thoughts. “Don’t shriek!”

A cat could not understand a human, so it continued to cry out.

“Stop it! Stop it or I’ll eat you!” Twain tightened his grip to hold it.

This cat screeched even louder...

※※※

Days without Shania, Dunn, game videos, tactical research, daily training, home games were boring for Twain. He had become accustomed to keeping himself busy. He was not used to not having anything to do.

Only the horrid cat was scurrying and jumping around the house. It would appear at the top of the refrigerator for a while, jump behind the television in the next instance and sneak onto the bed to curl up for a nap next.

Twain kicked the lazy cat off his bed before he sat down naked.

It was dawn outside.

It was a new day and the team had not yet returned to its normal schedule. Most people were still on vacation. He took time yesterday afternoon to go to the training base and found that there was no one else except the security guard at the gate. Twain took a bunch of videotapes and research folders from his office and went home.

After he washed up, he ate a simple breakfast. Twain returned to the room, threw down the cat that had been lying on the keyboard and turned on the computer. He was going to look online for the latest news on the summer transfer.

The information in the newspaper was limited. Online information was the fastest and most comprehensive.

He did not know how the other managers handled it. As a fan who spent a lot of time online, he still relied heavily on the internet for his various inquiries even if his identity had changed.

Twain had a rough estimate in his mind on the Forest team’s adjustments for the next season. During the period when the team had just won the Champions League title, there was no need for him to make any massive adjustments to the team. Such a thing would only happen to a team facing a difficult situation, such as Real Madrid a year ago.

Therefore, the Forest team would not make any major moves this year in the transfer market. Beckham’s joining was enough to get media hype for a while. Twain did not want to make it easy for the media and give them any topic to speculate about.

Anelka was certain to leave. There was no doubt about that, even if there had been no team that bid for Anelka. No matter how much money was involved, Twain had to get rid of the striker who dared to go against him. Feelings and sensibilities? I only take that into account with the players I like.

Once Anelka was gone, there would be a need for a quick and skillful striker on the front line. With regard to that position, Twain already had the right person in mind.

Although Albertini had said goodbye, Twain also did not intend to make any big adjustments. He might go back to the youth team to see if there were any good seedlings he could transfer over to cultivate and train. Perhaps he could also find some cheap and suitable replacements from the middle and lower level teams. Wood’s already in charge of a section and not to mention we still have our utility player, Sun Jihai.

Both flanks were fortified with many strong players and completely did not need to supplement any new players. What he needed to consider was not buying a new player, but how to reasonably arrange their chances for appearances.

Beckham’s arrival was bound to exacerbate the competition on the right flank and midfield.

The rear defensive line and right-back position required strengthening. Chimbonda was no longer able to cope with the entire season on his own. The center-back lineup was perfect and did not require any tweaks. As for the left-back position… he would watch and observe in the transfer market.

Twain contemplated as he browsed the news online.

The news online was that the Argentinian left-back, Heinze had a falling out with Manchester United and would leave Manchester United for Liverpool even if the case was brought to FIFA. But Ferguson firmly refused. Twain could guess the reason with his eyes closed. “We don’t have a tradition of selling players to our arch rivals.”

He had wanted to call Ferguson and ask him how much he would sell Heinze for. But he picked up his phone and put it down again, because he remembered that the Forest team was now considered a direct competitor to Manchester United. Although they had not won the league tournament this past season, who could believe that Tony Don, a man eager for victory and championship titles, would not shatter Manchester United’s dream of defending its title next season?

He’d better not try… Twain put the phone down. Having sold van Nistelrooy to him, it was probable that Sir Alex now regretted it. If he still went to him for a player, would Manchester United not become a logistics base for the Forest team?

Honestly, Twain thought that Leighton Baines could not keep up with the challenges the team now faced. He could still play in the domestic league but was still a little tender to the European arena. Twain wanted to add an experienced veteran for the left back position. He still highly valued Gareth Bale, but his lack of experience was not something that could be resolved overnight.

A man’s name suddenly popped up in his mind as he browsed the British and Chinese sports websites aimlessly on the internet.

Why don’t I buy him?

“The great Italian left back,” Fabio Grosso.

He heard that he was not doing well in Inter Milan. Twain’s memory of Grosso’s performance at the World Cup remained fresh. Putting aside Huang Jianxiang’s demented commentary, the left-back did have skills. Twain decided to contact the Inter Milan club.

He wrote down all the players he planned to buy on paper, jotted them down and then typed them on the computer to send an email to Dunn in China, He told him his planned list of candidates and asked for his advice. They kept in touch using this quickest and cheapest way. Twain had wanted to directly use QQ to leave a message, but Dunn said it was too informal to discuss the work on it. “Have you seen any managers that use QQ chat as a tool to work with?” Twain pursed his lips. Just because no one used it, he could not use it? What kind of logic was that?

Although he said that, Twain still respected Dunn’s request and emailed him instead.

Having done all this, Twain leaned back against the chair and stretched his back.

A mournful cry from the cat greeted him from behind. He felt a furry thing between his waist and the back of the chair, struggling desperately.

Twain used force again and scolded, “Serves you right! A lazy cat that just falls asleep everywhere!”